


In Your Likeness

by Quinquangularist



Series: Prince With a Thousand Enemies [3]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: M/M, Oral Fixation, Wet & Messy, sapnap can have little a backstory. as a treat :3, this is actually surprisingly soft for this series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:20:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27885889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quinquangularist/pseuds/Quinquangularist
Summary: The potion is crimson and shimmering, and when Sapnap downs it, the bottle drops from his hand immediately, by some miracle doesn't shatter.George picks it up, rolls dark eyes, "And you're sure it'll work?"
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: Prince With a Thousand Enemies [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1911196
Comments: 32
Kudos: 354





	In Your Likeness

**Author's Note:**

> AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA IM BACK!!!!!  
> hello sjdfklhas  
> sorry it took so long but im hoping to start getting more done soon.
> 
> anyways! i hope you enjoy!

The potion is crimson and shimmering, and when Sapnap downs it, the bottle drops from his hand immediately, by some miracle doesn't shatter. 

George picks it up, rolls dark eyes, "And you're sure it'll work?" 

"The cleric said it'd make him weak as a kitten for at least a day. They use it on zombie villagers." 

Sapnap is gagging, leaning on the bed in their tiny makeshift base, and Dream can see his forearm shake as he struggles to hold himself up. 

"How you feeling, buddy?" 

Sapnap blinks slowly, sits down at the head of the bed. 

"Feel like… really fucking heavy dude." 

"Yeah? How's your brain?" 

"Brain's good. Just," Sapnap attempts to raise his arms to stretch, can barely manage to pull them to shoulder height, "can't make my body do what I say."

George stares at him, emotionless, "So we'll see how long this lasts, and if it works, I'll  _ consider _ leaving you alone with him tomorrow night." 

Dream nods, "It shouldn't take you long to find Bad, right?" 

"No, but I'm not going more than two days' journey either way. Bad can find his own way back, he'd get here eventually."

Sapnap is lying down now, leg hanging limply off the side of the bed, and George looks at him, appraising. 

Dream makes his way over to the bed. It's the closest he's been to Sapnap without some kind of restraint involved since he'd had to kill him in the woods.

He's so still. 

Since the beginning of the hunt, Dream doesn't think he's seen Sapnap stop moving once. Even in sleep he twitches, shifts back and forth, never at peace, but now, he lies laxe, eyes Dream with that same deep amber gaze, piercing and clear. 

Dream holds his arms across his chest, too close for comfort. 

"You doing okay?" 

Sapnap blinks, opens his mouth and runs his tongue over his fangs. 

"I'm fine," he says slowly, ribcage rising, "a little… floppy," he makes an attempt at raising his hand, gets about three inches off the bed, and then lets it drop again. He chuckles. 

"We're trying to see how good this stuff is so feel free to like, struggle against it in whatever way you can." 

Sapnap nods, grins wide. 

"I'm gonna be back to normal in like an hour," he slurs. His head drops back onto the bed, "I just need to lay here. For a second." 

They set up for the night. George takes Sapnap's pickaxe as he has each night the three of them have been together, blocks in the entrance to the makeshift room where he lies, and he and Dream sleep, as they always do, with George curled against Dream, face pressed into his skin and Dream against the wall, George between him and the world.

  
  


They receive word from Bad the following morning as the sun rises. 

  


_ BadBoyHalo: You guys need to work on stealth, you're really easy to follow _

_ BadBoyHalo fell from a high place fleeing a creeper. _

_ BadBoyHalo: Oops. I'm back at spawn D:  _

_ GeorgeNotFound: stay where you are for now, i need to make sure i can leave sapnap here alone. there's a village nearby and you know how he gets.  _

George stretches, rubs his face and disentangles himself from Dream's long-limbed embrace. 

He rises from the bed and Dream pulls the covers around himself, watches George break down the wall between them and Sapnap. 

"Morning Sapnap," George says, and Dream sits up to watch. Sapnap lies in almost the same position they'd left him in, but has moved his leg up onto the bed. 

Sapnap groans, raises an arm and then lets it drape across his face, 

"It's bright," he says. 

George nods. 

"Yeah. It's morning. Can you get up?" 

There's a silence. 

Sapnap manages to sit. He yawns, tilts his head and gives Dream a slightly dopey smile.

"Hey, Dream," 

"Hi. How you feeling?" 

"I'm good. Very hungry, but good." 

George pokes his shoulder, grins bemusedly as Sapnap sways, "Try to stand," he says. 

Sapnap swings his legs over the bedside. He's moving like he's drunk, like he's suspended in water, and when he tries to rise, he overbalances, and George has to catch him, shove him back down onto the bed. 

"Okay," George nods, "that's promising." 

"Yeah," Sapnap says, "I feel really weird, like my body isn't working. You could probably put an apple or something in my mouth right now I couldn't do shit about it." 

"That's a good idea," George points, shoves the side of his left hand between Sapnap's teeth, "bite." 

Sapnap, to his credit, actually looks as though he's trying. He growls deep and loud like he always does and makes the motions of biting down, and Dream's stomach drops as he waits for the sickening crunch of bone, the metallic smell of blood, but it never comes. 

George blinks, removes his hand and flicks spit from his fingers, only to give up and wipe it on the quilt, "Is that really all you can manage?" 

Sapnap frowns, "What am I gonna eat? I'm so hungry!" 

"Can you really just- you can't even break skin?" 

Sapnap looks from Dream to George, genuinely distressed, "You guys I'm so fucking hungry!" 

Dream rises, makes his way over. 

George stares at his hand, shows Dream the pitiful indents of Sapnap's canines against his skin. 

"Huh," Dream watches Sapnap a moment, staring back at him, and in a moment of incredible daring, reaches out and threads his fingers through Sapnap's hair. 

It's thick and almost black, soft as down against his skin, "we'll find you something to eat," he says, can't tear his eyes away from Sapnap, leaning into his hand, "don't worry." 

George shrugs. 

"Well, it works," he says, "and we have three more." 

Sapnap attempts to stand again, gets so close that Dream tries to back away, but then he falls forward. He clings to Dream as George makes to pull him off, and Dream grits his teeth, prides himself on not screaming. 

"I hate this!" Sapnap cries, and Dream can feel claws against his back, pressing too weakly to damage but awful nonetheless. The low growl from Sapnap's chest reverberates through them both, and Dream shudders, pushes Sapnap back down. 

George glares, jabs his finger into Sapnap's sternum, 

"Try that shit again and I'm bringing you with me. Drugged or not. Bad's at spawn, Sapnap. I could kill you and leave your items with Dream. One more moron to collect won't make a difference." 

Sapnap blinks, silent, and looks up at Dream, mournful but without shame. 

George turns, lays his hand on Dream's shoulder, and Dream starts, still staring back at Sapnap, every muscle in his body taut as a tripwire. 

"If he does anything you don't like, anything at all, do not hesitate," George whispers, and his breath tickles Dream's skin, "kill him." 

Dream nods. 

  
  


The day is cool and dry, and Dream can smell autumn in the air, that slow chill that permeates the earth right before the leaves begin to change. 

George huffs a sigh, saddles up his horse outside. Dream skulks, checks the saddlebags, rubs the horse's nose, and Sapnap leans in the doorway, looking for all the world like a kicked puppy. 

"Right, that should be it," George turns to Dream, reaches a hand toward him, which Dream takes in both of his, "be safe, don't do anything risky, stay as long as you need and I'll send word when we're a few hours away."

"Thank you," Dream says, "for this." 

"You were sick, Dream. It wasn't a fair fight." 

"You didn't have to stay." 

"You know I did."

Dream runs his thumb over George's hands, feels his soft, pale skin, the thin, raised scars of someone far too practiced with a blade. George stares at him, eyes deep and dark and so, so familiar. 

"I'm gonna miss you," he says, and then George is kissing him. 

It's brief, slightly desperate, and George pulls him in afterward, touches their foreheads together. 

"I'll miss you too," he murmurs, and then pulls back, straightens his pauldrons and takes a deep breath. 

He mounts the horse, points down at Dream, "You, keep him as out of it as possible," and then shifts to look at Sapnap, "and you. Behave. I'll be back before dawn two days' time." 

He gallops off, and Dream watches his back disappear between the trees.

Sapnap rolls his eyes and lopes back inside, on still unsteady legs. 

"Yeah, bye to you too, George," he says, bitterly, "fucking asshole." 

Dream follows him into the makeshift base at a safe distance, watches him sit cross legged by the fire they'd made the night before, all ash by now. 

"Sapnap?" 

"Hm?" 

Sapnap looks at Dream and he can't help but tense slightly, "Do- uh- I have some bread, if you think you could eat that. we can tear the middle out so you don't have to chew." 

Sapnap looks like he considers it, before turning back toward the dead fire, poking it with his ironclad boot. 

"Man, fuck bread. Fuck potions, fuck all of it. I hate this shit. I feel useless! And I'm gonna have to drink another one at sundown!" 

Dream shrugs, "Well yeah, if you don't want to get blocked in you have to take the potion." 

There's a pause.

"...You're not gonna block me in?" 

"Why would I have to if you take the potion?" 

Sapnap's brow furrows at the soot on his boot, "Seems dangerous, but I'm not complaining." 

"There's no reason to shut you in there if you're like this." 

"No I know it's just… I dunno I expected you to be more freaked out about this." 

Dream sits across from him, not quite within arm's reach. 

"Yeah me too. You sure you don't want some of this bread?"

Sapnap stares at him. It makes his stomach clench. 

Dream eats the bread in torn off chunks, stolen from a village, and wishes he had honey or butter or jam of some kind. 

"You know what you could probably eat," he says, and Sapnap's head tilts in askance, "soup!" 

"Oh, yeah," Sapnap says, "probably." 

Dream offers him some of the loaf of bread. He takes it, and when his clawed hand touches Dream's palm, it doesn't grab at him or scratch at all. 

  
  


Dream goes rabbit hunting, and not once does he look over his shoulder. It's been so long since he could wander the wilds alone without the feeling of being watched, being chased, but George is gone, Bad is at spawn, and Sapnap is sitting at home, apparently making an attempt at carving a lump of soft wood he'd picked up. 

Dream takes a deep breath, takes confident, silent steps, takes his time. The bow is a comfort, heavy in his hand, and with each arrow he nocks, he feels more and more at ease in these woods, like the trees are ones he knows, like he could stay here and have nothing harm him. 

His aim is true, and the forest is teeming with life. He takes two rabbits and some kind of small game bird back to the base, sits at the doorstep and plucks the bird, skins the rabbits. 

They, along with the last two pork chops Dream had cook well, and the smell of meat brings Sapnap out from the fireside. 

Dream takes his knife to the food, pulling meat away, gathering the bones in George's cauldron, throwing each in with musical clinking before chopping up his pitiful collection of vegetables, a few onions, three slightly aged carrots, a leek.

  


Sapnap sits by his side. 

He shows Dream the lump of wood he's been shaving away at. The marks are amateurish, but the shape is distinct. 

"Oh, it's a deer?" 

"Yeah, well, it will be,"

"It looks good. You're good at that, dude." 

Sapnap stares at the cooked food, amassed in Dream's carved wooden bowl,

"Thanks," he says, "Do you think I could-" 

"Sure," Dream hands him the bowl, makes short work of the last of the rabbit bones. 

"Is this stuff chicken?" 

"Pheasant, I think." 

He nods. Dream watches him pick one of the pork chops up, clean off his claws, black and hooked and terrible, and swallows, before rifling through his inventory for the beef bone he knows he kept from a few days before. He finds it, along with his final few stalks of wild garlic, and three sprigs of thyme. They get thrown into the pot. 

Sapnap has his teeth around part of the pork chop. He's biting down, but nothing is happening. 

"Maybe you should try something softer," Dream says. Sapnap growls and Dream's hands shake so badly he almost fumbles his knife, throwing himself back away from the sound. 

Sapnap watches him, extricates his teeth from the meat. 

"Sorry," he says. He doesn't sound it. 

"It's fine," Dream breathes, "wasn't expecting it, is all." 

"I'm uh… sorry about last time too." 

Dream makes his way back, slowly, starts the fire under the cauldron before adding some of the oil he'd traded spider silk for three villages ago. 

"It couldn't have been helped," he shrugs, "sorry I killed you over it." 

"I had it coming." 

The smell of garlic cooking rises in the air, and Dream upends his vegetables into the cauldron, gently stirs with his knife, 

"I don't think you were all that in control of what you were doing." 

Sapnap is quiet, for a moment, silently hands Dream the clean water he'd procured to be poured into the cauldron. 

"I don't even know why I did it," he says, slowly, like he's trying to remember, "I can remember doing it, I can see it in my head but there's no- I can't remember  _ why _ . It would've made more sense to um-" 

"To wait?" 

"To wait."

Dream lays the board he'd used to chop the food atop the cauldron, cutting off the steam. 

He doesn't look at Sapnap. 

"George does similar stuff y'know. It isn't just you." 

"... Really?" 

Dream nods, "He bites and claws and draws blood and has to apologise sometimes. It messes him up pretty bad though. I think," Dream rubs his shoulder, feels the strange numbness of scars there, "you probably have a harder time because it's easier for you to do damage. And cause you're so keyed up all the time. George has an outlet for it." 

Dream glances over, and Sapnap is staring at him, gripping the little carved deer like a lifeline. 

"Does he ever," he falters, "can he always control it?" 

Dream frowns, chews on the inside of his lip,

"He's never slipped. Not that I've seen, anyway."

Sapnap sighs gently, nods. 

"Sorry Sapnap," Dream says. 

He shrugs, "It's fine man, I don't know any different. Can't miss what you never had." 

It sounds practiced, like he's heard it a thousand times before. 

The flames beneath the cauldron crackle. 

Dream feeds another stick to the fire, hisses when a spark catches his hand. 

Sapnap stares into the blackened lumps of wood and charcoal, turns his wooden deer over in his hands. 

"How much do you remember," Dream prompts, "about before?" 

Sapnap's brow furrows, and he's quiet for a while, "Not much," he shrugs, "Bad talks about it. George doesn't like to. I always get the feeling they know more than I do, but I remember you, the way you were. You seemed…" he pauses, searches for something but huffs a sigh before he can grasp it, "I dunno, bigger, I guess. More." 

"You were younger when it happened, I guess. George said the same thing." 

Dream expects this to be the end of it but Sapnap is frowning into the flames now, distracted, pushing the claw of his thumb into the soft wood of the deer's back, 

"I remember you teaching me sword tricks, and me and you and George and Bad in the base together, and I remember when you left. I remember George," he lets out a breath, voice softened to a whisper, "being so angry. I didn't really know what to feel. And then you came back, but you were different. And I remember this…" his claw digs deep, rends the wood, and he bares his teeth, as though in pain, "this fog in my mind, and this  _ aching _ ," Dream flinches as the deer snaps in two, right down the center. 

Sapnap pauses, takes a shaky breath, "And then I woke up. And I spat out a lot of blood, and teeth, and I was different too." 

Dream watches Sapnap. He blinks, seems to notice the snapped carving in his curled fist for the first time, and sighs, tossing it into the fire. 

The flames lick along the soft, dry wood, blackening, cracking, and flaking away. 

  
  


The day grows progressively colder as clouds like bruises roll over the sky, block out the faraway autumn sunlight. Dream wanders, gathers berries, pinenuts, digs around for edible foliage, medicinal herbs. Sapnap goes inside. Dream almost offers to find a new piece of wood for him to carve, but his carving knife is lodged deep in the dirt wall. Deeper than it should have been able to be pushed, given the potion. Dream shudders. 

With the sky overcast, Dream can only tell time in estimations. For perhaps the second time in his long life, he ponders the usefulness of clocks. The soup cooks, and the rich, savoury smell of broth is enough to draw Dream back to the dirt hut. He takes the board off the cauldron's lip, skims his bowl along the surface, flicks the floating fat from the remnants of meat off into the nearby grass. He lets the broth cool a while, fetches his own cauldron from George's jade box, too large to work with normally but suitable enough. He pours the broth from one cauldron to the other, holds the board against the edge to keep the bones from getting in. 

The pheasant and rabbit meat are added to the liquid, and Dream moves his own cauldron onto the fire, sets it to boil again.

He hasn't spent this long making something to eat in years, decades maybe. Usually, finding the time to throw something on an open flame is difficult enough. 

Dream wonders if Sapnap is sleeping. It's probably sometime past noon, and once the sun passes under the towering clouds toward the horizon, Dream will either have to convince him to drink another potion, or find a way to block him into his room for the night. He could leave the food in there, block up the door as he eats, but the potion seems like the easier option. 

He lays a hand on one of the round, uneven bottles that rest in his inventory. The surface is cool and smooth, and hums with the distinct energy that magic fixes to objects and concoctions. 

Dream stares past the treeline, where the overcast sky prevents long shadows from forming, and watches as a stag weaves behind the pines, tall and proud and solitary, closer to their encampment than any other beast had the good sense to be. It mustn't smell the hunter in the air. 

For a moment, Dream is tempted to nock an arrow, see if he can take some food to cure when he goes, but the instant he moves his hand the stag snorts, turns with liquid grace, and is gone. 

It begins to rain. 

Thin, misty drops catch on Dream's eyelashes and lie in tiny droplets on strands of his hair, and he wraps his hands with cloths, heaves the cauldron up, and takes it inside, before returning for his rucksack. 

The door to Sapnap's room is shut, and Dream shivers at the sudden damp chill, lights the fire. He lays the cauldron by their makeshift table of chopped logs, trusting the enchantment to keep it warm. 

Crossing the packed earth floor, Dream gently retrieves a potion, before opening the door to the other room, dark inside. 

His eyes are slow to adjust. 

"Sapnap?" 

Cold, snaking fear takes root in his gut as the void remains silent. 

Dream's shoulders tense as he listens for breath, waits for his eyes to acclimate, "Are you awake?"

The air is thick with the smell of hunter, sets off every warning signal in that animal part of Dream's brain that's kept him alive so long. 

The hair raises at the back of his neck. He can hear breaths if he strains but can't place them. He shifts to step backward, into the light, but there's movement. 

A flash of eyes in the shadows. 

"Sapnap?" he asks again. 

The dark flickers, "I'm awake." 

Dream jumps, the voice far closer than he'd anticipated, and Sapnap steps forward into the dim light of the doorway. 

"You scared me," Dream states. 

Sapnap stares, and for a moment none of it matters, the potion, the talking, the promises. Dream wants to run. 

"Yeah," Sapnap says, and his hand moves up to touch but Dream backs away, "I could tell." 

Dream squints at him for a moment, and then shoves the potion bottle into his hands. 

The look Sapnap gives him is indecipherable, but it makes him tense up all the same. 

"It's almost sundown, I'm pretty sure," he takes the bottle. The air seems to crackle between them, cold and heavy with the rain outside, "you should eat before you take that though." 

Outside there is a barely noticeable shift in light, and followed by a long pause before the roll of thunder reaches them, dampened and tamed by distance. 

Dream makes his way to the fireplace, pokes the burning logs with a stick before throwing that in too. The cauldron smells of warmth and salt, and Dream takes the last of the bread from his inventory, three days old and a little stale now, but adequate for their purposes. 

Sapnap sits heavily across from him and stares, silent, eyes flickering in the light of flames the same shade of amber. 

Dream wishes he had a spoon, reaches forward to swirl his knife around in the soup, watches the warm gold broth move in spirals, lapping the walls of the cauldron. 

"There's enough for a few days," he says, "so you can keep what's here when I leave." 

Sapnap watches Dream take a pair of unevenly carved wooden bowls, set them on one of the flat logs where the board rests, along with his bread, "You don't want to take it with you?" 

Dream shakes his head, "Not good for the road, it takes up too much room," he says, "besides, I'll be gone before George gets back, you'll need something to eat after taking the potion tomorrow," 

There is a long, heavy pause as Dream fills the bowls, tears the bread as evenly as he can, "Thank you," Sapnap says, uncharacteristically gentle, "for this." 

Dream scoffs, "What'd you think I'd let you starve?" 

"I would have. In your position." 

Dream shrugs, hands a bowl and half the bread to Sapnap, who accepts them before taking a deep breath, savouring. 

Dream takes his own bowl, dips bread into broth and eats, grateful for the warmth, "We're not all that different, y'know," he says, rolls his eyes at the stare Sapnap gives him in response, "I'm serious! I killed too, before, and not because I was built for it," 

Sapnap is tilting his bowl up to drink from it, bread almost completely ignored.

He swallows, "Soup's good," he says. 

Dream sighs.

"Thanks." 

It is good, for what it is, there wasn't much to work with but it came together pretty well. It's hot and comforting, the kind of food that keeps chill out of your bones. 

The rain batters the door and the thin wooden shutters outside, sun sinking behind the horizon. 

Sapnap finishes a bowl, and then half of another, and then the bread, making a face as he chews it. 

"Really though," Dream says after, empty bowl in hand, "you and George think you're so terrible but when I used to do this, I chose to, and I chose my fate. You didn't." 

Sapnap says nothing, uncorks the potion and drinks, nose wrinkling as he winces at the bitterness. 

Dream hands him a bottle of water.

"For the taste," he says.

Silence stretches between them, and Dream drops the bowls into a bucket of water, figures he'll either wash them later or George or Bad will when they get back. He lights a lantern, places it by the door, before heading into Sapnap's makeshift room to light one there as well. Nothing can get in there, but it's better to be safe than sorry with shadows, especially on nights like this. 

He feels Sapnap's eyes on him, and the sensation is like touch along his spine. 

"I didn't mean to scare you," he says, "earlier." 

Dream nods. 

"I'm sorry about your deer," he murmurs, and Sapnap makes a face, shrugs, sighs. 

"I woulda broke it at some point anyway." 

He sounds resigned, and Dream returns to the fireside, sits slightly closer. 

"You've got a good eye for shapes though," 

"Thank you," Sapnap says, doesn't quite sound like he believes it, "I tried sculpting once," he says, "but clay takes too long," he motions with his clawed hands, pulling back when Dream fails to hide his flinch, "gets up under these, too."

Dream nods. He thinks about the dried mint leaves in his rucksack, considers making tea but thinks better of it, knowing neither cauldron is clean. 

"Do you still sing?" he asks. 

Sapnap, who had been staring into the fire, looks up at him, "Hm?" 

"Do you uh- still sing?" 

Sapnap grins, lopsided and shakes his head, "Not so much, anymore." 

Dream frowns, "That's a shame." 

Sapnap rolls his eyes, still smiling, "Dude I wasn't good," 

"But it made you happy." 

Sapnap's smile drops slightly, "Yeah," he says, "I guess it did," before nodding back at Dream, "but what about you? What do you do? When there's time to spare I mean." 

Dream takes a deep breath, turns to look at Sapnap, "Yknow," he says, "recently, I've found myself really enjoying baths." 

Sapnap laughs, "Yeah?" 

"Yeah! I don't have time very often, but when you're hauling ass for three days straight it really helps with muscle tension, and the soap they'll trade you in villages? It's good stuff dude it'll take the nether grime right off, no scrubbing or anything" 

Sapnap is giggling now, nodding along, and Dream grins back, feels his chest warm as he continues, "That's what this is for," he motions to the cauldron, "I fit in this!" 

"You do?" 

"You would too dude and it stays hot, I'll show-" 

Dream cuts himself off, remembers he leaves in the morning, "I'll show you next time," he finishes somewhat lamely, feels his stomach sink. 

"Yeah," Sapnap nods, "next time." 

  
  


The rain worsens, and threatens to come through the door at one point, before Sapnap shoves sand up against the jamb. 

He moves sluggishly, like lifting his legs is a strain, and when he sits, the entire weight of him comes down at once. 

Dream watches him. 

"Why don't we go to bed," he says, offers Sapnap a tentative hand up.

Sapnap takes it, palm warm and slightly rough against his own, and smiles in thanks before turning to lope toward the other room, Dream moving to sit on the bed positioned a little bit away from the fireplace. It's cold. He frowns. 

"Sapnap?" 

"Yeah?" 

Dream doesn't know why he says it, "You want to sleep in here? Just for tonight." 

Sapnap watches him, analytical, before catching a claw in the fabric of his shirt, stretching it absently, "Are you sure that's a good idea?" 

Thunder rolls outside. 

"You've taken the potion, what could you possibly do?" 

Sapnap blinks, frowns, pauses, "I could hurt you," he says, voice small. 

Dream feels that cold clawing tension in his gut, ignores it, "Is that something you want?" 

Sapnap seems to step toward him, before hesitating, turning, and then turning back with a breath. He makes his way to the bed, slowly, stands and doesn't meet Dream's eyes.

"I don't know what I want." 

Dream says nothing for a moment, watches the firelight flicker on Sapnap's skin, catch and glow on blackthorn claws. There is a kept-ness to him, he contains himself. A will held back, and Dream knows that, by choice at least, Sapnap won't hurt him tonight. 

"Lie with me," he says, reaches out, takes Sapnap's broad hand in his own, palm to palm and knowing that the grasp will be gentle, that those hooked talons will not break his skin, "I trust you."

Sapnap's eyes widen, and he blinks once, and then again, and for a moment Dream thinks he might rip his hand away, shut himself in his room, but he frowns, nods, and turns to sit down on the mattress at Dream's side, removes heavy boots, stained shirt, shucks his trousers, "If I get dirt in George's bed it's my ass on the line," he says. 

Dream chuckles, takes his own boots off, his own rough-hewn shirt, and rolls over toward the stone wall, watches the muscle of Sapnap's back shift as he breathes, turns his head slightly, still facing away.

"You're sure about this," he says, more to himself than to Dream.

"I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't," Dream leans on a hand, jaw against palm and arm against pillow, and stares as Sapnap takes a deep breath, nods firmly, and pulls his legs up onto the bed, turns over onto his back, then again to face Dream. He seems larger than life, here, so close, backlit in gold and watching with those magmatic eyes.

"I like being close to you and not being afraid," Dream murmurs, "I get to notice things." 

Sapnap smiles, but not the toothy grin Dream is used to, "Notice what?"

"Things," Dream shrugs, watches dark eyelashes fan against his cheeks as he blinks, watches the soft strands of hair that fall, rebellious, over his face. 

Sapnap's eyes flicker over him, and Dream watches as his hand twitches, and then curls in on itself. 

He reaches across the sheets, slowly, moves Sapnap's hair back and smiles as he shuts his eyes, turns slightly to lean into the touch. 

He's warm under Dream's palm, a barely contained wildfire, and when he lets out a quiet breath, so still like this, he looks almost peaceful. He doesn't reach toward Dream, and Dream feels the smallest amount of guilt at making him hold back, despite himself. 

"Sapnap," he murmurs, gets a hum in response, "you can touch me too if you want,"

Sapnap opens his eyes, and Dream reaches down, takes his clawed hand, and rests it against his own cheek, a mirror of what he had done. 

Sapnap stares, eyes wide, and Dream feels the pad of his thumb graze his skin gently, shifts so that his head rests on the pillow, before turning to press his lips against Sapnap's palm. 

"You won't hurt me," he says, "I won't let you." 

Sapnap breathes deep, swallows.

"Dream," he says. 

"You can't do harm right now. You want this, right?" 

He nods.

"Yes,"

Dream speaks softly, slow and clear,

"Then let yourself have what you want." 

Sapnap kisses him. 

All at once Dream's face is held between big, warm hands and his entire field of vision is brilliant, golden eyes that drift shut as Sapnap's lips meet his, unsure but eager. It's awkward around his fangs and he's far more enthusiastic than he is skillful, but Dream feels Sapnap's hands move to run down his shoulders, his chest, his sides, like Sapnap is trying to memorise him, to learn each inch by rote. 

He rises to loom over Dream, turns them both so that Dream is on his back, before slotting his leg between Dream's and giving a low, rumbling hum. 

Dream tangles his fingers up in dark, unruly hair, keeps Sapnap close, flush against him. 

Sapnap sucks on his lip, moves down to Dream's jaw, pressing his own lips against his skin as he goes.

It's overwhelming almost immediately, the big clawed hands that weigh heavy against his ribcage, the cool scratch at the ends of those fingertips, the terrible potential they hold raising goosebumps wherever they touch. Sapnap tongues his throat, a low growl pulsing and steady, deep in his chest as he leaves hot, wet kisses all along Dream's collarbones and up his neck, trapped and pinned down as he runs a hand along broad shoulders, breaths coming in shuddering bursts between the slow, heavy pushes of Sapnap's thigh between his own, thick and powerful. 

Dream gasps, feels the graze of sharp canines against his neck as Sapnap clutches, grasps, pulls at him, fervent and desperate. He lets his hand slide down Sapnap's spine, scratching slightly and the vibration of the snarl Sapnap lets out, pressed into his throat, is enough to make him arch up into that all-consuming pressure, the hot, damp breaths and threat of sharpness and pain that, for all its impossibility, still doesn't feel empty. 

Sapnap pulls back, slick-lipped and panting, and fixes Dream with a look of hunger before closing the space between them with a kiss, deep and wet and messy, humming into Dream's mouth as he pushes forward, devouring.

Dream grasps Sapnap's hair, pulls gently and is driven back by the sudden jerk of his hips, the twitch against his thigh. He moans around Sapnap's tongue, feels the skin of his neck begin to dry aside from a thin line of saliva that slides, cold, down the back of his shoulder. 

Dream shudders. 

Sapnap runs his hand over Dream's chest, catching his nipple with calloused fingertips and licking into his mouth when he gasps. Dream manages to maneuver his leg out from between Sapnap's, throws his head back as Sapnap's weight falls against him entirely, before Sapnap catches his lips again, attempts to jerk his hips up to no avail, curling his legs back around Sapnap's thighs, crossed at the ankles. 

Dream can feel the deep rumbling against his chest, in his mouth and Sapnap sucks his bottom lip between sharp teeth, feels the growl skip slightly as Sapnap rolls his hips down hard, presses Dream into the thin mattress, 

"Sapnap," he breathes, gasps as Sapnap licks a stripe up his neck, "Sapnap wait," 

There is a low hum, the cool of breath against damp skin, and Dream pushes at Sapnap's shoulders, forces him back as gently as he can. 

"Wait," he says again, as firmly as he can with Sapnap staring at him, pupils blown huge and round within rings of amber, "give me a second, okay?" 

Sapnap, rumbling like an engine, manages to nod, allows Dream out from underneath him as his arms begin to quiver before eventually giving out, and he lies face down on the bed, curls a hand underneath himself with a sigh. 

Dream shudders in the open air, fire dwindling, and makes his way to his inventory, the jade box, finds George's bottles of oils, plucks one, cold and smooth against his hands, smelling of sandalwood, from its place. 

Sapnap watches, perks up when Dream returns, packed earth floor cold against his feet, to sit on the edge of the bed, take his trousers off as Sapnap traces the line of his spine with a hooked claw, terrible but gentle. 

"I know what that is," he says, nods to the oil. 

"Yeah?," Dream smiles, "Good."

Sapnap nods, draws Dream into his arms, hands splayed across his chest, and presses his lips to the skin of his shoulder, breathes deep.

"Can I do it?" 

Dream grins, takes one of Sapnap's claws between his thumb and forefinger, 

"No," he murmurs, chest squeezing with affection at the disgruntled huff of breath against his skin, "but you can watch," 

"Can I touch?" 

"You're touching me right now," 

"Yeah but," Sapnap's voice is muffled, pressed into Dream's shoulderblade, "it's different when you're busy," 

Dream raises a hand to play with Sapnap's hair.

"Yes," he says, "you can still touch," and grunts as Sapnap's grip tightens and he is lifted up and back onto the mattress, Sapnap curled around him and kissing the back of his neck,

"Thank you," he says, tugs until Dream is pulled back into the center of the thin mattress, and Sapnap can lean over him, lay a hand flat on his chest. There's none of that unnatural brutality, that awful strength that he's seen Sapnap rip creatures apart with, that would snap his ribs and tear his tendons. Instead, it's only weight, comforting in its mundanity. 

Sapnap stares down at him, almost reverent,

"You're soft," he says, runs his thumb, warm and broad, along Dream's skin, dragging over scars. 

Dream huffs a breath, amused. 

"Thanks," he grins, only half mocking, "you gonna let me do this, now?" 

Sapnap blinks for a second, before his eyes widen and he nods, moving down the bed so that Dream can get his hands where he needs them. 

It's strange, being observed like this, but not necessarily unpleasant. Sapnap lowers himself down, presses his face to Dream's raised knee, hands along his sides. He's watching like a cat watches leaves twitch in the wind, and Dream lets out a shaky breath, feels the familiar, slick stretch along with Sapnap's hot breath on his thigh. 

Sapnap sighs in tandem with him, and Dream feels his fingers twitch against his sides as he presses his lips to Dream's inner thigh, drags teeth over skin only to kiss instead, raising goosebumps. Sapnap draws his tongue, hot and wet, over Dream's thigh, hums as he does, licks the gathering sweat from his skin as Dream shudders, fights the urge to shut his eyes tight. 

"Dream," Sapnap's voice is muffled, rumbling, "can I?" 

Dream blinks, mind catching on the phrase like wool on thorns,

"Can you?"

"Please," Sapnap sighs, moves up Dream's thigh, lips pressed against him still. 

"Yes," Dream breathes, barely processing, and Sapnap whines, shifts forward, closes wet lips over the tip of him, tongue laving over the pearlescent drops of precome that slide downward as he moans as Dream cries out, heat and slick pressure overwhelming. 

Sapnap's jaw stretches to accommodate him, and Dream watches, transfixed, as Sapnap swallows, feels the sharp indentation of fangs give way as Sapnap takes him deeper, nose pressed into his hip and Dream bucks uncontrollably, feels Sapnap swallow again, constricting, and gasps, takes a handful of dark hair, and throws his head back. 

"Sapnap, Sapnap wait," he murmurs, tugs at the hair so that Sapnap is pulled off of him with a wet pop that has Dream twitching, watching the string of saliva that drips onto his skin as Sapnap leaves his jaw slack, licks wherever he can still reach and moans, "fuck," 

"Please," Sapnap whines, ruts against the mattress and tilts his head against Dream's grip to lap at his thigh again and Dream clenches down around his own fingers, shudders, "please, Dream," 

Dream blinks rapidly, feels Sapnap huff hot breaths over him as he stretches himself.

"No," he says, extricates his fingers, "come up, kiss me," 

Sapnap is heavy, kisses like he's starving, like he wants to climb into Dream and live there. It's intoxicating, and Dream tastes himself, bitter, on slick lips. 

He hooks a leg back around Sapnap's thighs, broader than his own and strong, pulls him in as best he can, hand still tangled up in his soft hair. It's a difficult feat to uncork the bottle again, breaking their kiss and feeling Sapnap begin to suck on his jaw, lick the skin slightly damp with sweat as Dream pulls the cork from the lip with his teeth, lets the viscous fluid pool in his palm before resealing it, bottle slipping from his fingers. He works the hand beneath Sapnap and takes hold of him, hot and already leaking, spreads the cool liquid over the skin and feels the shuddering jerk of his hips as he moans into Dream's ear. 

"Dream, please," he whines, pushes forward and licks a line from shoulder to jaw, along his jugular. 

"Yes," Dream gasps, "yes, now, Sapnap, yes." 

Dream expects the push inward to be rushed, hard and thoughtless, but Sapnap lets out a long, low moan, allows Dream to guide him and moves slowly, shaking with the effort of holding back. He laps at Dream's throat, mouths his jaw until Dream pulls him in to kiss, feels the push and stretch and Sapnap's thighs trembling against his own and sighs as he eventually bottoms out, growls around Dream's tongue. 

The broad, clawed hand at his waist shakes, loosens its grip and moves. Dream feels the warm palm meet the back of his thigh, the stretch of muscle as Sapnap pushes his knee back toward his chest. 

Sapnap's breaths even out slightly as he licks into Dream's mouth, shudders slightly and hums as Dream clenches down experimentally. He isn't still, Sapnap never is. Instead he's very gently, slowly rolling his hips, twitching slightly with the effort of restraint. He pulls back, breathes another "please," against Dream's lips, and Dream nods, pushes back against Sapnap and watches his jaw drop, the flash of fangs in firelight before he's pulling back, dragging heavy and perfect against Dream before pushing back in, a guttural moan rising from the depths of his chest as Dream throws his head back, grip on Sapnap's hair tightening. In this, as in everything, Sapnap is overeager, excited, clinging to Dream's thigh and hip as he sets his pace, brutal and deep and panting into Dream's neck and desperately licking the sweaty skin along his collar and chest. He is wild and arhythmic and pushes, grabs, pulls to be as close as possible, fucks into Dream with strength that calls the potion into question, heat pooling in his stomach as he pushes back against Sapnap, arches to rut against his stomach and moans when Sapnap lets his thigh go, holds his hips in the air like he weighs nothing, pressed tight against his skin as he snaps forward, growl like thunder against Dream's throat. 

Fuck, Sapnap," Dream pants, drags his nails, blunt and useless, over Sapnap's shoulder and pulls hard on his hair. Sapnap bites down on Dream's throat, unable to exert any force there, but pressing with fangs and tongue regardless, and Dream swallows, feels the vibrations against his skin and shudders, locks his ankles behind Sapnap's back as he pushes in, deep, liquid heat building in Dream like cast iron, burning and twisting in his gut with every movement. The new arch of his hips sends Sapnap deeper, Dream's shoulders pressed back onto the mattress and legs twitching as he feels himself begin to slip over the edge,

"Sapnap, Sapnap kiss me," he says, feels more than hears the wet sound of him pulling back from his throat, and he hums into Dream's mouth, hips twitching hard when Dream licks his fangs and Dream moans, feels himself spill between them, hot and sticky, and his muscles clench as Sapnap pushes in over and over, tongue and hips in tandem and Dream holds on as tight as he's able, eyes squeezed shut and breathless, feels Sapnap jerk and twitch and speed up, before pulling Dream's hips flush against him and biting down on his tongue, buried deep and spilling, hot and twitching, inside as Dream clenches around him.

Sapnap pushes in two, three more times, before letting Dream's hips fall back onto the mattress, pulling back more slowly and gently than Dream would've deemed him able, still panting and pressing kisses over Dream's parted lips. 

Dream's breaths begin to slow, and Sapnap pulls away, rests his forehead on Dream's sternum and breathes there. Dream's muscles twitch, thighs trembling still. 

He sighs.

Sapnap draws himself up onto his knees, the hands still resting on Dream's hips trailing down over his thighs. 

He watches Dream again, orange eyes flicking over his face, his chest, and Sapnap lowers himself down, pushed between spread legs, and draws his tongue over the sticky mess of Dream's stomach.

Dream feels himself twitch. 

"Fuck, Sapnap," his voice is ragged, and Sapnap pauses.

"Do you want me to stop?" 

"Do- not if you don't want to." 

"No," he murmurs, "want to taste you," and licks another stripe along Dream's skin, tongue hot and gentle, and Dream shudders, goosebumps rising in the wake of Sapnap's mouth as he takes dream between his lips, sucks gently on the head and Dream gasps, oversensitive and shaking, and licks, diligent and careful, until he's clean, and makes his way back up, kissing and licking Dream's skin as he goes. He lies back down on top of Dream, deadweight, wraps big arms around the backs of his shoulders and kisses his cheek. 

"Thank you," he says, before his face drops down to Dream's neck.

"Thank  _ you, _ " Dream laughs, but Sapnap just lies against him, and his breathing slows. 

Dream stares at the dirt ceiling, listens to the fire, to Sapnap's soft breaths, to the rain outside, sweat drying on his skin. Sapnap is heavy, hot, but not suffocating. Dream wraps his arms around his broad shoulders, feels him huff gently against his neck. And it's different to when George lies against him, protects him from the outside world even in sleep. It's different, but it's good. 

  
  


In the morning the sky is clear and bright. Light streams through the makeshift shutters and Dream blinks against it, watches the drifting motes of dust set ablaze in the sun. He is pressed, still, to the mattress, Sapnap's head on his chest, and he brings a hand up, threads cold fingers through his hair, feels Sapnap's face shift against his skin and watches his back rise, ribs expand as he takes a deep breath, before letting it out, cool and ticklish. His shoulder's shift, and the arms wrapped around Dream squeeze slightly before unfurling, stretching up underneath the pillow as Sapnap yawns, jaw cracking before clicking shut, and he rises just slightly, sets his chin down on Dream's sternum and smiles, lazy and warm. 

"Hi," he rumbles, and Dream grins, brushes a hand over his cheek and watches Sapnap lean into the touch, eyes shutting briefly. 

"Good morning," he says, “how you feeling?”

Sapnap seems to consider himself for a moment, furrows his brow and shrugs, “Good,” he nods, “kind of um... “

Dream raises an eyebrow, “Sticky?”

“Yeah,” Supnap giggles, shifts back slightly, rising so that the sun catches in his hair, near black strands cast almost auburn, glowing at the edges, “sticky.”

He looks down at Dream, and Dream can’t tell what he’s thinking. Sapnap yawns again, arches back and stretches, palms toward the sky and eyes squeezed shut, silent aside from a breath. He’s beautiful. 

Dream watches Sapnap roll off of him, sit on the edge of the bed and rub at his chest, claws catching in the dark hair. 

He turns to Dream, “Do I have to drink another potion?” 

Dream nods, smiles at the curl of Sapnap’s lip, the wrinkling of his nose.

“Last one,” he says, placating, “just so you don’t follow me.”

Sapnap nods, runs a hand through his hair, fingers catching in the tangled strands, dried together overnight. 

“Are we gonna eat the soup?” 

“If you’re hungry, sure.” 

Sapnap nods again, rises.

“I’m gonna go to the river. Come with me?”

Dream scoffs, 

“It’s freezing!”

“I’ll hold you,” Sapnap says, like it’s obvious. 

  
  


The river is freezing. 

Sapnap dashes, headlong toward the water, crashes under the surface and reemerges with a loud shout, frightening birds out of the pines. He flicks wet hair back and grins wide.

Dream laughs, “Why would you do that?”

“Why not?” 

He stands at the edge of the water, watches it run, clear and beautiful over rounded stones, slow and deep this late in its course. It turns his skin pale, blueish where it touches him, and then he is held, wrapped up and pulled, shrieking, underneath. Dream claws his way back up, digs his fingers into Sapnap’s shoulders and bares his teeth, hisses, “I’m gonna kill you!”

Sapnap presses warm lips against Dream’s, holds him flush to his chest.

“But it’s not as cold anymore, right?”

Dream’s teeth clack together

“It’s still fucking cold!”

Sapnap laughs, loud and warm, squeezes Dream tighter.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

“No you’re not,” Dream grins, leans back down to kiss him.

“No,” Sapnap says, runs a cold hand over Dream’s back, “I’m not.”

Sapnap releases Dream so that he can go back to the riverbank for his soap, George’s soft cloth, and only complains when Dream insists he wash his hair.

“It’s fine.”

“It’s sticky!”

“I went in the water!”

“Gods, Sapnap, is that all you do?”

Sapnap blinks at him.

“Well no, sometimes I jump off something tall and respawn,” he explains with a shrug, “you always come back clean” 

Dream stares. 

“No. I refuse to believe that. Come here, you’re a mess.”

“Hm,” Sapnap squints, “no, I don’t think so,” and he dives into the water, resurfacing a little ways down, wading away. Dream rolls his eyes, grins, and leaps after him.

  
  


They eat by the fire, warm, dry, and when Sapnap drinks the final potion, Dream watches the strength leech from him, grimaces in sympathy as his shoulders drop.

“I’m gonna get my stuff together,” he says, “I’ll put the soup in the other cauldron and leave you some of that soap. You should lie down.”

Sapnap nods slowly.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, rising shakily to his feet. Dream catches his arm, does his best to balance him. They get to George’s bed and Sapnap drops, dead weight, before toppling over and rolling onto his back. 

“I’ll probably be gone when you wake up,” Dream says, runs the pad of his thumb over Sapnap’s cheek, leans down to kiss him, gentle.

“Dream?”

Sapnap stares up at him, raises a hand to cover his and hesitates a moment.

“Yeah?”

Sapnap frowns. 

“Will things be different now?”

Dream considers him, watches Sapnap press gently into his palm, skin warm. 

“They can be,” he says, “if you want them to.”

Sapnap nods gently, shuts his eyes. 

Dream stands, takes a deep breath, and begins to work. He cleans out the unenchanted cauldron, sets it on their makeshift table and pours what’s left of the soup inside before cleaning his own and putting it away. He takes his tools, his weapons, the armour George said he could have. He organises George’s jade box, tucking his bedroll tightly over the two gently glowing regeneration potions he still has, to be saved for an emergency. He puts the armour on, leather and linen padding slightly rough against his skin and pockmarked iron glinting in the light. Sapnap breathes evenly, and Dream takes a moment to watch him again, so quiet, so still. 

Dream pulls the carving knife from the wall. He takes the soft wood he’d kept from his inventory, leaves both on the floor by the bed. 

He leaves their little base, oddly heavy again with his inventory full and his armour on. He takes the opportunity, out in the woods, to shoot another pheasant, brings it back to the hut and leaves it on the tree stump outside. 

He stands outside the door. 

The forest is quiet.

The air is cool and dry.

And from inside, barely loud enough to register, gentle and just a little unsure, Dream hears singing. 


End file.
